


Sombra

by Tasjaw0n7



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Backstory, I l o v e sombra okay guys i love her so much, Lore - Freeform, Not moblie friendly formatting, Unconventional Format, if youre a sombra only fan this is your stuff right here, she has so much potential in her character and in the lore and oh my go d guys, shes her own thing guys, shes so cool, stop putting her w d.va and the talon gang so much, yeah its legit only sombra because im so tired of seeing her just in the background of a fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 06:34:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8654548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tasjaw0n7/pseuds/Tasjaw0n7
Summary: The orphanage is cold. Not cold as in temperature but cold in a different way. A way a five year old girl can't explain.It just feels cold. The people, the place, the food.She feels cold too, ever since Mama and Papa left.(ever since they died)





	

The orphanage is cold. Not cold as in temperature but cold in a different way. A way a five year old girl can't explain.

It just feels cold. The people, the place, the food.

She feels cold too, ever since Mama and Papa left.

_(ever since they died)_

But she has something at least. Food, a bed, water, some books...

_(more than what the kids on the streets had with their ripped up blankets and swollen red eyes)_

She would live.

_(she would survive)_

 

* * *

 

The years go by fast. Most things are a blur. She focuses on school, as broken and slow as the teachers are, because that's what she's been told to do. She reads and reads, studying like mad. Her brain is crammed with information and paragraphs.

_(knowledge will let her get a job and leave this damn place)_

On her tenth birthday she finds something else.

It's an old computer thrown away in the schools dumpsters. The hologram that comes out of it is fuzzy and flickers horribly when she uses it for more than a three hours but it's something. It's hers.

_(the glow of a screen is the warmest thing she's felt in a while)_

 

* * *

 

Hacking comes to her with ease.

She uses it to alter her grades at first. Not that she needed it with her straight A scores, but she got a zero on her last science worksheet and she'd rather break some rules than fail.

When she's finished her hands are shaking. She's smiling so much her cheeks hurt. Everything came together so easily. Like she had done it a million times before. The window with how to hack guides make her heart race.

_(who needs school when the world is at your fingertips)_

 

* * *

 

"We have a deal? You get the info, get out, and we give you a small place to stay with some cash."

"Yeah."

Some paint gets on her hand when she shakes his. She's tempted to tell him that painting his palms is stupid but she holds her tongue.

_(she's barely touching the big leagues. twelve and wide eyed and talking to criminals is only the first step)_

"Los Muertos is happy to work with you."

"I am too."

 

* * *

 

The Commissioner smiles and laughs, putting down his bottle of liquor. He says thank you and gives her a speech about how grateful he is to have the youth of Mexico be so involved in their government.

"You've made my day, Miss Maria!" He takes out some of the bread when he says the name _(a fake name of course, fake as her smile)_ and offers some back. "I couldn't take all of this for myself. You deserve to have some!"

"No, no, Commissioner Rivera. Just seeing you happy is all I needed."

He and the policeman nearby exchange words of gratitude. What a humble young lady, they say. If only more kids were like you, they praise.

_(if only less people were like you, if only the world was kinder, if only people cared)_

She's told to leave as someone else comes in. A man in a rich suit, the smell of cigar in his mustache and dark green eyes that have lost their shine years ago, who comes in with a scowl and papers folded in his fists.

_(he would be next on her list, next in jail, next to lose whatever empire he had)_

Commissioner Rivera tells the other police man to escort her out and back to her home. She manages to give the man the slip three blocks away. The adrenaline from what she just did makes her grin split her face, her hands shaking from the fear and exhilaration.

Her backpack feels heavy. The weight of knowledge, of files exposing corruption and lies is the only thing tying her down and stopping her heart from soaring into the sky.

_(thousands of files one for each child lost and thrown away and fed dirt and left in the dark while the world passed by unknowing and uncaring)_

 

* * *

 

She gives the files to the Los Muertos gang the next day.

It's a bit hard to give it all up. It makes her body feel heavier, not lighter, as they take away her backpack to download the information. She has backups of it, sure, but it feel more like a violation than a simple trade.

She hates having to wait for it back.

She does not like the smell of the alleyways. It's of beer and smoke and something else that makes her wish she had a coat or a big collar to block it out. Maybe she should buy one. A jacket, long sleeves and a hoodie, to block everything out. It would help make her blend in more with a faceless crowd.

_(dealing with machines is much easier than dealing with people after all)_

 

* * *

 

They send her a report of what happens to the Commissioner. She asked for one, after all, and it leaves happiness in her chest when they treat her as an equal. She looks at all the files. The writing's scattered, Los Meurtos doesn't have a formal report system after all, but it is readable. There's pictures too. Just a few, some from the newspaper and some taken first hand.

_(that's a lot of blood isn't it)_

It's justice.

_(it's disgusting)_

It's justice.

_(his arms shouldn't move in that direction)_

It's justice.

_(he had children, didn't he)_

It's justice.

_(now they have no one)_

It's justice.

_(they're just like you now)_

It's justice.

_(it's hurting)_

 

* * *

 

It takes a while but eventually whatever crawls around her chest stops. It turns into something different.

Adrenaline.

She moves through systems like a ghost, a shadow, that picks up words and pictures along the way. Sometimes without purpose, more times with. She finds things: little missteps, falls, failings, an accidental peek from a camera onto a private conversation, half formed plans, things buried where no one is supposed to find it.

Knowledge is everywhere. In everyplace. In everyone's code and voice and mind, all jumbled together like a puzzle begging to be solved. Needing to be solved. To have someone put it together and use it. Who else could solve it? Who else but her?

She was made for this. Destined to figure out each piece of the puzzle. Maybe everything she had gone through was just part of the plan to make her who she was today.

_(it makes it hurt less if it was for a reason)_

Her reputation leaks everywhere. Everyone in the underworld begins to know her. Her skill set. Her dedication. Her speed. How she could pry anything out of anyone, without detection and without hesitation.

They also learned the risks.

It only takes one slip up. A client gone wrong who tries to sneak away only paying half his due. After what happened to him, no one dared do the same.

_(she learns to find the humor in his face when they took him away in cuffs to meet his end)_

 

* * *

 

With knowledge comes power. With power comes money.

_(and responsibility, but who needs that? who needs responsibility? no ones ever been responsible for her)_

After a while she has enough money to take things slower. To set her own path. To have fun.

Her definition of fun is searching, finding, hacking. But not for jobs. Just for the experience. To find cracks where there's nothing, and to dive deep into why there isn't anything at all.

_(people love to hide things. its to bad they're all so terrible at it)_

 

* * *

 

Her hands burn.

_everything's burning around her_

She falls, hitting the floor with a slam. The cans on the table hit the ground. The holograms of her computer are a bright red.

_red like her hands                    her hands oh    god       her       hands_

She gets up.

_is it to late oh god no       no     no                no   please     no_

Her hands move on her keyboard. The electricity sparks.

She screams.

Blood drips from her fingers. Her skin isn't supposed to be this red. It's not supposed to feel like this.

_the eyes **s          t         a          r         e**        down at her, unblinking, ever watching, devoid of pity_

She falls back again and runs to the kitchen of her dingy apartment. It hurts to move the faucet handles but she does. She shoves her trembling hands under the cool water and shudders as her fingers twitch with an onslaught of cold.

_everything's gone_

She shakes.

_why couldn't she see this sooner how could she have been so blind_

She bites her lip.

_there's so much more out there than she's ever known_

She cries.

 

* * *

 

Everything is gone.

Her system. Her data. Her connections.

Her life.

_(it wasn't a life to begin with)_

But she adapts.

_(Sombra adapts)_

She lives.

_(Sombra lives)_

The girl dies.

_(Sombra is **alive** )_

 

* * *

 

Money is a problem. Before, it was so easy to steal from back accounts without anyone knowing. Now she has nothing. Only a few thousand bucks to her name. It's the blow to her pride that almost stings as much as the loss of her systems. She wasn't good enough before. She isn't good enough now. She has to get better. Has to be better.

"You got a tough order. Spinal enhancements, hand augmentation, and brain processors, huh?"

The woman behind the counter smirks. Her words sound more excited than her tone. It's something she's done a million times before. Sombra doesn't need the rumors on the web to confirm that. It's black market. It's 'secret'.

_(it's the best thing she can use to avoid detection for now)_

"I can hook you up. It's gonna take a while. About... Ten hours, at the least."

"Doesn't it usually take twelve?"

"You did your research." The woman's smirk grows.

"I always come prepared." Sombra grins.

_(she should have gone somewhere else)_

"And you thought this place followed some sort of time limit? We don't do regulations, sweetie."

_(all her contacts were gone her whole database destroyed)_

"Is that an invitation to take my business somewhere else?"

_(she has to do this)_

"Smart alack, aren't you?"

_(you have to get it done you have to they'll never find you if you stay one step ahead)_

"I pride myself on being smart, yeah. But enough with the small talk. You can do it, right?"

_(breath, just breath they cant find you they cant find you here)_

"Yup." The woman pops the P. It takes all of Sombra's strength to swallow her venom. "Come to the back room."

_(you'll be invincible after this)_

Sombra moves the curtain aside. The sight of the machinery makes her stop, just for a second.

_(there's still blood on the chair and the drills are so sharp and there are bones in a sack on a table and she can't do this she can't do this)_

"Scared?"

_(breath)_

"What makes you think that, amiga? I'm just admiring the craphole I'm going to be passed out in for nine hours."

_(calm down)_

"Passed out?" There's a chuckle. "Oh, honey..."

_(you have to you have to you have to)_

"We don't do that here."

 

* * *

 

It hurts.

_(it hurts)_

It hurts to move. To walk. To breath. To blink. To do anything.

_(she shouldn't have done this oh god oh god it hurts it hurts so much)_

The streets of Dorado are busy, as always. No one notices a limping woman with shaking hands and a cane walk past.

_(it's the only time she finds any comfort among people)_

Each step is agony. Her nerves twist and flex and stretch as they get used to the sensation of metal and wires around her veins and bone. It would take three weeks to fully integrate into her body. Sombra did her research.

_(how is she going to type when every moment is agony)_

She leans onto something. She doesn't know what it is.

_(her brain is so fuzzy and disorganized and dull yet still screaming and burning)_

Shakily, she reached into a pocket. It takes her so long as her fingers shift and shake but she manages. She pulls out her phone to look at the route to home.

_(not home. just a temporary place. los meurtos did her a favor she will pay back one day)_

Sombra takes another step.

_(it's a painful beginning)_

 

* * *

 

In actuality, it takes a month for her to move correctly. But it's not because of faulty machinery.

Sombra tinkers and fixes the code of her new body. It's the best practice as she alters the cybernetics programming to seamlessly suit her body.

The brain processor has several new features now to correspond with her new and improved gear. Her fingers link up to her processor. She doesn't need to even think about the easier coding now. They move instinctively as her processors recognize the code and it hacks it without a single fully formed thought from Sombra. Her hands are faster now. Stronger. She can crush a beer bottle in them.

The spinal enhancements grow all over her body and she codes it all to perfection. Wires can leak out of it to attach to a computer. It's much easier to hack when the numbers move like blood through your veins. Plus it's a great practical joke. People get so freaked out when her back twists much more than is normal.

All of that is not enough, of course.

_(nothing is enough for Sombra)_

She already has plans in mind. An invisibility suit so she can be undetected in the real world as well. Teleporters to go wherever she wants to. Vishkar liked teleporters. Hacking into their systems wouldn't be so hard. She could make some sort of EMP blaster maybe. Though she'd have to be careful to not fry herself out with it.

_(pieces of the puzzle come back as she works on designs and plans. excitement flows through her body like the code rushing in from her mind)_

She has to be ready. Has to be the best.

_(anyone who makes even the smallest mistakes will never find out who truly rules the world)_

Sombra does not make mistakes.

_she will **never** make them again_

**Author's Note:**

> Some Sombra headcannons:  
> \- When her computer went through that weird electric discharge after the Eye Ensemble 'found her out', Sombra got a horrible electric burn. It's part of the reason why she wears gloves. The scars on her hands are a mark of when she was naive and careless. When she thought she knew how the world worked.  
> \- She used to be a straight A student because she's really smart. If she had been given a good home she probably would have gone to an Ivy League University as a high schooler.  
> \- Her and the Los Muertos gang are pretty close. She probably does a lot of jobs for them, free of charge. She also recommended them to Talon so they could get money.  
> \- Is a hardcore perfectionist. She hates dirt and any hint of poorness. Though she is lazy about herself and doesn't take care of her body or practice much self-care.  
> \- Sombra is 99% sure that the Eye Ensemble can't find her after she changed her identity. But that 1% of doubt messes with her and makes her go into bouts of pure paranoia and fear. Anxiety attacks about something she can't even fully comprehend. Everyone learns to leave her alone in her room when she has one. Comforting her makes it worse.  
> \- For sure had a punk phase when she was with the Los Muertos gang. Hell, she's still in one. But the one she had in the past... Whew. That was much worse.


End file.
